


To Indeed Be a God

by sonichallows



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cameron isn't part of the dps, Communication Issues, F/F, F/M, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Underage Drinking, mlm/wlw solidarity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25243909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonichallows/pseuds/sonichallows
Summary: Knox Overstreet is new to Welton Academy, but his roommate Charlie is there to help him learn the ropes.What Knox thought was a close friendship is quickly becoming something else, and he's not sure what to do with the feelings he's developed for his best friend.The Dead Poets Society might be the only thing that can help him face his identity, and in turn, his undeniable attraction to Charlie Dalton.
Relationships: Background Neil Perry/Todd Anderson, Charlie Dalton/Knox Overstreet, Chris Noel/Ginny Danburry, Knox Overstreet/Chris Noel (temporarily)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 72





	1. Hell-ton Academy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I've had in the works for quite a while and I figured it was about time I posted it.
> 
> [This work has a playlist!](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLurzerVeOQyk-TJvKnGoh8GQmraXZcDYm)
> 
> POV changes are separated by ~

“Mr. Overstreet, a pleasure,” Mr. Nolan said, with a touch of insincerity.

It was the same voice Knox’s parents used when they spoke with authority figures or so-called important people like Mr. Nolan, his new headmaster.  
This school, Welton Academy, was Knox’s first boarding school.  
All boys.  
  
Knox shook hands with his principal, his mother hugged him, and his father gave him a slap on the back.

“You will do us proud here, son,” his father stated, leaving no room for doubt. “One day you will make a fine banker alongside the Parker sons.”

“We are so proud of you,” his mother added. She hugged him one last time.  
It took a minute for Knox to process that he wouldn’t see his parents again for months. 

“Thanks, mom,” he said softly.  
He waved as they departed until they were obscured by the crowd of other parents.  
Knox took a deep breath. He was alone and wouldn’t see his family until the holidays.  
Strange, Knox thought, how it was almost a relief.  
  
A clap on his shoulder broke him out of his daze.

“Overstreet, Knox?” He whirled around to see a boy his age, smug expression firmly in place and hand still resting on Knox’s shoulder. It took him a second to realise that he hadn’t responded.

“Yeah?”

The other boy’s smile widened.  
  
“Charlie Dalton. Roommate.”  
  
“Oh.” Oh, no. Knox hoped rooming with Charlie, the cutest boy ever, wouldn’t become an issue. He wouldn’t have time for crushes if he was going to get decent grades at this school. “Nice to meet you.”

Charlie’s smile never dropped. He removed his hand, for which Knox was both grateful and disappointed.

Charlie was slightly shorter than Knox, with chestnut hair and a charming air of confidence. Knox knew, objectively, that he would be considered handsome. If there were girls at this school, they would be all over him. That couldn’t-care-less kind of attitude was...magnetic.

“Come on, I’ll show you to the dorms,” Charlie said, looking over his shoulder once at Knox to make sure he was following.

The dormitory hall was packed with students, all clamouring and speaking over one another, not dissimilar to a swarm of locusts.  
Charlie located a door on the right and nudged it open, hauling his suitcase with him.  
Knox stepped in behind him, careful to leave the door open.  
He had heard about dorm courtesy; leaving the door open was an invitation for meeting people and Knox was determined not to be that loser who didn’t socialise on the first day.

“Shut the door,” Charlie murmured absently, rummaging through his suitcase, the belongings of which had somehow become splayed across his entire bed in the seconds it took them to enter the room.

“Uh, what?”

Charlie looked at him.  
  
“What do you mean ‘what’?”

“How will we meet people? Make friends?”

Charlie made himself comfortable on the bed covered in his possessions, throwing his legs up off the floor.

“We’ll make do,” he winked, lighting up a cigarette.

Knox closed the door. He eyed the smoke that was going to fill the room. Of course, he was rooming with a guy who smoked. He would never get the smell out of his clothes.  
Charlie raised his eyebrows at Knox’s obvious distaste.

“What, you don’t smoke?”

Knox pressed his lips together. He would not be judged on his first day by his own roommate.

“Pass it here,” he said, with hopefully more confidence than he felt.  
Charlie grinned and handed the cigarette to Knox who fiddled with it, trying to find the right grip.  
Knox put the end to his lips and shakily inhaled.  
The smoke tasted like death and made his mouth feel ashy. Knox spluttered in disgust.

“Ugh,” Knox coughed, holding the cigarette out like it had offended him. “You do that on purpose?”

Charlie laughed as he took it back, before drawing a long, easy inhale from the cigarette.  
Knox stared.  
He had no reason to care that the cigarette had been between his own lips and was now covered by Charlie’s, but a shiver ran through him at the thought.  
He shook his head and turned to unpack his bag. It meant nothing.  
  
Knox didn’t notice Charlie’s curious eyes following him as he worked.

\--

It took Knox a little over a month to feel like he might fit in at Welton.  
The classes were tough, and the faculty was tougher, but the students made facing each day bearable.

Rooming with Dalton meant he had instantly been accepted into his study group.  
Knox had no complaints. Perry, Meeks and Pitts were grudgingly studious and bonded with Dalton and Knox over their distaste for authority.  
Charlie was the least motivated to study and was far more interested in annoying his roommate.

Charlie had been aiming a paper airplane at him for the past twenty minutes, but Knox really needed to finish his trig homework.

“Charlie,” Knox warned, voice slightly louder than usual due to the ruckus in the common room.   
Feigning innocence, Charlie lifted his hands in false virtue.

“Neil, you have a room to yourself. Need any company?” Knox asked, only partly serious.  
Neil lifted his head from the essay he’d been writing. He grinned as Knox shielded himself from yet another paper plane.

“Actually, Nolan says I’m getting a roommate on Monday. New student.”

Everyone perked up at the news.

“Ooh, a newbie,” Meeks said, from behind his radio transmitter.

“Neil, your luxury accommodation is being ripped from your grasp. How will you bear living like the rest of us?” Charlie teased.

Neil rolled his eyes, thwacking Charlie with a textbook.

“You see what I have to deal with,” Knox said, crossing out a nonsensical equation of his homework.  
  
“You really can’t stand to room with me?” Charlie asked, mock hurt.  
He broke into a smirk as soon as Knox rolled his eyes.  
  
Knox tried to focus on his homework, but the equations made about as much sense to him as Latin. Annoyance bubbled inside him when a paper plane skidded across his books for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.

“Charlie, I swear!”

He did not find it even slightly endearing when Charlie burst into laughter.  
He most certainly did not have to swallow a smile when his roommate lightly tapped his foot against Knox’s calf to indicate the teasing was in good humour.  
Knox picked up the paper plane and thrust it at Charlie, ninety-nine percent out of dislike. And a little bit for the fun of it. Just a little.

\--

As soon as they returned to the dorms, Charlie let out the most frustrated groan Knox had ever heard.  
He ignored the stutter it caused in his own breathing.  
Knox was halfway through his bed preparation routine before Charlie realised his sigh wasn’t enough to warrant an inquiry from his roommate, so he spoke up.

“I don’t see why we have to do so much work for English. It’s not like we don’t speak the language already,” Charlie complained. He was splayed lying out across his bed, limbs hanging off the edges, eyes trained on the ceiling. “I can’t be expected to pass if every subject has ten million pages of homework per week.”

Knox raised his eyebrows at the exaggeration.  
  
“At least you’ve perfected the use of hyperbole.”

Charlie turned his head to look over at Knox, who sank to his bed.  
  
“I can’t fail. My parents will kill me. And re-taking that class with Mr. McAllister would guarantee eternal suffering.”

“Mm,” Knox hummed his agreement. “How does he make every sentence sound like it’s been dragged through mud?”  
  
“He does! And you’re so much better at English than anyone else here.”

Knox laughed in disbelief.  
  
“Have you _met_ Neil?”

Charlie pushed up onto his elbows, sincerity colouring his features.  
  
“Have you met yourself?”

Despite the oddly worded question, Charlie appeared so genuine that it almost hurt to look at him.  
Knox’s eyes dropped to the floor, cheeks heating. Charlie sighed again and flopped back down to his starfish position.  
They lingered in silence for a moment.

“If you’re having that much trouble, maybe I could help?” Knox offered; eyes trained on a particularly interesting floorboard. Charlie shifted in Knox’s peripheral vision.

“What, tutor me?”

Knox shrugged, standing to switch the light off and returning to his bed.

“Only if you want,” Knox said, voice softer in the darkness.

“Yeah, okay,” Charlie agreed. “Thanks.”  
  
Knox smiled, since nobody could see him. This might be a bad idea, but he found himself unable to resist spending more time with Charlie. It was probably just about the novelty of having a best friend, nothing more.


	2. Tutoring

The morning sun reflected brightly off the lake as Neil caught up to Charlie crossing the lawn on his way to the dorms.

“Dalton,” Neil said, matching his friend’s stride. “Rowing?”  
  
“My arms are stiff as boards,” he demonstrated by holding them out. “It’s all Cameron’s fault. He never does anything. Just sits there while the rest of us have to pull his weight.”

Neil nodded, aware of Cameron’s general laziness.

“Met your new best friend yet?” Charlie asked.

“On my way to Nolan’s office now,” Neil informed him as they approached the courtyard. “Apparently he’s Anderson’s brother.”

“No way,” Charlie remarked. “Big-shot lawyer-slash-valedictorian Anderson’s brother, your roommate? You must be starstruck already.”

“Shut up,” Neil replied, smiling. He veered to the left of the courtyard while Charlie continued straight ahead. “I’ll see you!”

Charlie grinned as they parted ways, heading to the communal bathrooms after dropping off his rowing gear and grabbing a clean uniform.  
He was sure that not seeing Knox along the way had nothing to do with his faltering mood.  
He was just exhausted from carrying Cameron’s slack in rowing for half of the morning. That rat needed to get his act together.

Charlie let the lukewarm shower wash away his thoughts and frustration.  
When he emerged in his boxers and a towel draped over his shoulders, Knox was standing in front of the mirror, towel drying his hair.  
Charlie had to swallow what felt like his entire throat just so he could breathe.

“Hey,” Knox said, casual as hell.

Charlie unfroze and took the space next to Knox at the basins.

“Hey,” he returned, hoping the speed of his pulse remained invisible as it increased in his veins.

Painfully aware of his state of undress, Charlie fought to keep his gaze under control.  
Not only was Charlie just in boxers, but he was standing beside a shirtless Knox.  
A drop of water trailed down the other boy’s neck and over his shoulder, disappearing down his back. Another drop trailed a similar path.  
Charlie wondered what it would be like to touch Knox’s wet skin; to press kisses along his shoulder and the muscles of his arm. It seemed unjust to let someone so beautiful go unappreciated.

He blinked himself out of the staring, but not before Knox had caught his eyeline in the mirror. Charlie cleared his throat, though it didn’t help how dry his mouth felt. He busied himself with dressing, determined to avoid eye contact.

“Still in for English tonight?” Knox asked, watching Charlie in the reflection while he dried his hair.

Charlie felt relief flood his system, thankful that Knox hadn’t called him out for staring.  
He wondered why Knox was so calm about it, actually. Knox hadn’t really reacted at all.  
This kind of thing wasn’t completely foreign to Charlie. He was attracted to anyone with a pretty face, regardless of their gender.  
Being caught admiring boys was usually extremely awkward.  
Guys often stopped hanging around him or told him off for being a pervert and other, more offensive things.  
Knox, however, had not made things uncomfortable in the slightest.

“English?” It took Charlie a second to remember what that could possibly mean. He realised Knox was referring to the tutoring sessions they’d started two nights ago. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Knox spun around to look at him thoughtfully. “There’s something I never expected to hear from Charles Dalton.”

Charlie blinked.

“There is nothing on this earth you hate more than English, but you wouldn’t skip a tutoring session?”

Charlie felt himself blushing and hoped Knox would blame the steam in the bathroom for the rise in his cheek colour.

“Your point?”

Knox shrugged.

“No point. Just interesting,” he said lightly. He collected his clothes, gave Charlie a passing smile, and left him standing in the bathroom to process everything that had just happened.

\--

The Welton dorm rooms were spacious enough for two people. There was a bed and a desk for each person. They had enough room to spread out and still have personal space.

Despite this, Knox was barely giving Charlie room to move during their tutoring session tonight.  
  
Knox had the English books spread on one of the desks with just enough room for Charlie to sit, leaving Knox to hover over his shoulder.  
Their arms were gently touching, but neither of them cared to draw attention to it.  
  
Charlie was not going to complain about their proximity, but it did make studying more of a challenge when his mind would rather be exploring other possibilities.  
Namely, how he could grab Knox by his sweater and pull him down into a kiss at any moment.

Not that he would, tempting as the idea was.  
Charlie wasn’t sure Knox even liked him, and he wanted to keep their friendship intact, so he wouldn’t let himself push boundaries.  
Not that far, at least.

“What isn’t making sense in this chapter?” Knox asked, voice soft. It made Charlie want to question his intentions, but he chalked it down to the late hour and a desire not to disturb anyone in the neighbouring rooms.

“Probably be quicker to ask what _is_ making sense,” Charlie admitted. Knox let a tiny smile edge around his lips.

“We could start by looking at the new terminology,” he suggested, leaning over Charlie’s shoulder to point to the vocabulary box on the page of his textbook.  
Charlie tensed slightly and when Knox didn’t move away, his chest touching Charlie’s shoulder, he let himself relax.  
Knox shifted back so he could look at Charlie’s face. Their eyes met. Charlie wondered what Knox was thinking.  
Maybe he was also wondering what the other boy tasted like, or how exciting it would be to press closer, let their skin touch more deliberately.  
Charlie was reconsidering his stance on not pushing boundaries.

_Tap, tap._

There was a double knock at the door before it swung open revealing Neil with another boy in tow.  
To Charlie’s chagrin, Knox stepped back as they entered. Charlie made a mental note to curse Neil later for his terrible timing.

“Hey, Neil,” said Knox, clearly not as fazed by the interruption as Charlie.

“This is Todd Anderson. He’s rooming with me,” Neil announced. Charlie directed a single raised eyebrow and a tilted smile at Neil, who ignored its blatant suggestion.

Knox nodded, shaking hands with the new kid.

“Knox Overstreet.”

Charlie could only produce a grimace, having just lost a potential-drenched moment with his crush-slash-best friend.

“Charlie Dalton.”

“Oh, Knox, could you show Todd where the showers are?” Neil asked. “He hasn’t had a chance to find them yet and I just have a question for Charlie about the Latin homework.”

“Sure,” Knox agreed, leading Todd out of the room.  
Neil waited until he was sure they had left before speaking again.

“So, think I have a chance?”

Neil was the only person at Welton who knew that Charlie liked more than girls, which gave them a rare chance to discuss boys together.  
Charlie could tell Neil really liked this guy, judging by the fidgeting.  
  
“Wow, you’re already swooning,” Charlie grinned. “What’s he like?”

“Quiet,” Neil said. “Shy. I don’t know, I think he might be kind of anxious. I wish I could tell if I had any kind of chance with him.”

Charlie hummed. He was well-acquainted with the feeling. He must have made it clear on his face because Neil decided to ask about it.

“Something-” Neil stopped, amending, “Some _one_ on your mind?” 

“Uh, someone,” he said, taking a deep breath.

“Hm. Does his name rhyme with socks?”

Charlie scowled but Neil knew him well enough to read the amusement in it.

“Fine, it’s Knox,” Charlie said.

As if his name had summoning powers, Knox appeared in the doorway with Todd close behind him. Charlie scrambled quickly for more words.

“Uh, it’s Knox…who is tutoring me, because obviously I don’t want to retake the class with- with Mr. McAllister.”

“Right,” Neil agreed, catching on. “Not worth the risk. Well, we should go but good luck with the, uh...studying.”

Neil offered a polite smile and Todd waved before they departed, heading the few doors down to their shared room.

\--

That night, after trying and mostly failing to soak in explanations and examples of ridiculous terms in the english language that he would never use, Charlie dreamt.

A drop of water ran down Knox’s neck. He watched in fascination as the drop turned into his fingertip.  
It trailed down Knox’s back; soft, comforting, warm. The other boy hummed from somewhere low in his throat.  
They lay by a fire, holding each other close.  
Charlie was warm in his cheeks, his hands, everywhere. Knox’s weight pinned him to the floor.  
Time transitioned slowly, hazily. Charlie felt Knox’s breath on his neck, desperate for him to push closer, to be kissed.

Charlie arched beneath Knox, pressing their hips and fingertips together, aching for more contact.  
Knox pressed his lips to Charlie’s throat.  
It was too much. Charlie was burning up.

He woke to find the room deafeningly still.  
All that disturbed the quiet was his own heavy breathing.  
He rolled over to make sure Knox was asleep.  
His roommate seemed so peaceful in the blanketed darkness. Charlie turned onto his back and waited until his body calmed down.

He fell back to sleep just before the morning bell chimed. Cursing his subconscious, he hid under the covers, mostly to avoid looking Knox in the face after his dream.

Feelings were going to ruin his goddamn life.


	3. Sax

“Hey, do any of you take music?” Cameron asked, hovering by the study group.  
Charlie rolled his eyes in Knox’s direction.  
After being subjected to whining on an almost daily basis, Knox knew how much Charlie hated Cameron. He bit back a chuckle.

“Studied clarinet for years,” Meeks said. “Um, but not anymore.”

“Anybody else?” Cameron asked, looking around the group. Neil, Pitts, Todd and Knox shook their heads.

“He plays the bongos,” Pitts said, pointing at Charlie.

“Why do you wanna know, Cameron?” Charlie asked. “Your grades hurting?”

“No, Mr. Garland asked me to recruit members for additional Saturday afternoon theory lessons,” Cameron corrected.  
Charlie produced the fakest smile Knox had ever seen him wear.

“Not interested. But if you count the triangle as a refined instrument worthy of extra special lessons, go ask Diggs,” Charlie said, as Cameron turned to find another group to bother.

“Don’t you play sax, Charlie?” Neil asked. _That_ was news to Knox.

“Saxophone?” Knox asked, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice.  
  
“A little,” Charlie admitted, suddenly very interested in his assignment, scribbling at the edge of his exercise book. “Not really.”

“Impresses women,” Meeks added, helpfully. Right, women, Knox thought. Because Charlie wasn't like him.

“Had much luck with that tactic, slick?” Pitts asked.

“It’s not like you guys are exactly pulling chicks either,” Charlie said, defensive. 

“No, we’re all pulling something else.”

“Jeez, I expect talk like that from Dalton,” Neil said. “But you, Meeks?”

“He’s frustrated in the sex department,” Pitts explained.

“Aren’t we all?”

“Don’t you mean the _sax_ department?”

“Okay, guys, let’s not scare away the new kid,” Charlie said.

“It’s okay,” Todd replied. Neil smiled at him.

~

Knox hadn’t spoken in a while and Charlie hoped it wasn’t because he was uncomfortable.  
Charlie felt a little weird about the discussion. Usually this kind of conversation was initiated by him rather than the meeker Meeks.   
  
It would be great if Neil could embarrass Charlie less often by bringing up his hobbies around his crush.  
Everyone really wanted to help Charlie out tonight, for some reason. He wanted to melt into the floor.  
Charlie hadn’t been practicing saxophone recently because his mind, for once, had not been focused on impressing girls.

Charlie watched as Neil placed a hand on Todd’s arm, a comfort passing between them on a level that Charlie rarely witnessed. It sent a sharp pang through Charlie’s chest. He craved the connection they had; the simplicity in their attraction.

It was more than just craving the intimacy itself, Charlie knew. He wanted it with a specific person. A person with soft hair, kind eyes and a talent for making his heart race.


	4. Agricola

Knox didn’t think of himself as homosexual. His sexuality had never been in question until he came to Welton.  
It was one specific boy who had set an internal crisis into motion.  
Knox wouldn’t have been questioning things if their friendship was like any other friendship, but the fact was that things felt different with Charlie.

He knew, because his heart rate didn’t pick up speed when anybody else walked into a room.  
He knew because he found boredom inevitable when Charlie wasn’t around.

Defining how he felt was difficult. It was tingling at the most innocent of touches and breathlessness at inopportune times.  
Friendship with Charlie Dalton was like nothing Knox had ever experienced.  
He couldn’t easily recall what life had been like before he came to Welton Academy. He just knew that now his life was Knox, plus Charlie.

Being addicted to the adrenaline high of spending time with his friend didn’t have to mean anything.  
Knox didn’t like all boys, he liked Charlie. There was a difference.  
Not that he could ever tell anyone about his feelings. The way people talked and acted about stuff like that… He couldn’t bear the idea of even suggesting aloud that he liked his friend as more than a friend.  
It was hard enough recognising the feeling in his head; he could certainly never express it to somebody else, least of all the boy of his affections.

Still, they grew closer every day.  
Since their other friends remained oblivious, Knox didn’t have it in him to discourage it.  
He knew they probably flirted a little too much and their touches lingered for too long.  
Knox just hoped he hadn’t made everything up in his head. Projecting his feelings onto Charlie if they weren’t returned might be the worst level of hell imaginable.

Knox couldn’t describe the energy between them better than to say that it just felt like the most natural thing in the world to be together.  
Not together-together, because that would be impossible.  
In the same room together was enough. It had to be.  
If Knox let himself think about anything more, he knew he would be setting himself up for ruin.

They were supposed to be studying right now, and since neither of the boys shared classes on Wednesdays it made sense to study together.  
They sat on Knox’s bed. Charlie had his head resting on Knox’s calves as Knox leant against the wall, surrounded by papers, textbooks, pencils and notepads.  
It felt dangerous, but neither of them moved from the position.  
  
~

Charlie was meant to be cramming for an exam in the morning, but Knox was _right there._ How could he resist paying full attention to his favourite person instead?

“Agricola, agricolarum,” Charlie vocalised. “Who cares? When will I ever use Latin after school?”

Knox’s forearm brushed past Charlie’s hair when he reached for a pad of paper. Charlie closed his eyes briefly, basking in the comfortable presence the two had built together over the past months.

“Agricola,” he continued. “I’m not going to become a farmer. I don’t need to know this!”  
Charlie tossed his notes down to emphasise his frustration.

Knox huffed in amusement. “Can you imagine?”

Charlie pretended to be offended.

“Hey, I could be a farmer if I wanted,” he tried, but it didn’t sound convincing even to himself. Knox snorted. “Not that I ever _would_.”

“I can see your future clearly now: Charlie Dalton’s Farm Fresh Produce. Proud distributor of the freshest dairy in all of Vermont since 1959.”

Charlie grumbled incoherently from behind his hands.  
Knox couldn’t contain his laughter, causing a miniature earthquake where Charlie had comfortably been resting seconds before. Charlie poked Knox in the thigh with the back of his pencil until he yielded.

“Okay, okay,” Knox said, swallowing down the last few bursts of laughter, “Never again will we discuss your future _agricola_ life.”

  
~  
  
Knox was sure he had swallowed sunshine. Or maybe Charlie just radiated mischief and happiness and it had infected Knox, too.  
He returned to his notes, but they all went into his mind and straight back out again.  
Trying to study was hopeless when Charlie was here, lying warm and heavy against his legs.


	5. Carpe Diem

Leaving classes at Welton was always slightly terrifying.  
The stairways were too small and crowded with hormonal boys, all yelling over each other. Trying to push through without being pinned against the wall or herded in the direction one was trying _not_ to go was practically impossible.  
Knox had learnt this early in his days at the academy. He knew to hang back in a classroom for a few minutes before stepping out.

Keating’s class earlier that morning had left him pondering his entire existence, as they often did. Having a new English teacher would have been a relief no matter who it was, but Keating was better than anyone could have imagined.

“Hey, Knoxious!”

Knox looked away from the door frame, which he had zoned out staring at while the room emptied.  
Charlie was shoving his way up the stairs, attempting to bounce through the crowd of people as if it would get him to his destination more quickly.  
Knox grinned at him.

“Admiring the paintwork?” Charlie asked, finally approaching his friend.

“Keeping out of that chaos,” Knox inclined his head toward the thinning crowd on the stairs.

“And while you do that you take a detailed analysis of the building.” Charlie threw an arm around Knox’s shoulders and walked him down to the dorm rooms.

“I was thinking, genius.” Knox shoved playfully at his friend’s arm. “Something you might want to try occasionally.”

“Thinking _about_?” Charlie dragged the question out, suggestively. Knox half-laughed and broke free from Charlie as they entered the dormitory hallway.

“Nothing you’d approve of. Just Keating’s class today.”

Charlie made a sound of understanding, pushing into their room.

“Thinking of seizing your days? Gathering some rosebuds?” Charlie dropped to his bed, lighting a cigarette.  
The routine was familiar, and Knox found himself relaxing into their banter.

“Something like that.”

Charlie looked at him, maybe for slightly too long. Knox turned his back to rifle through the desk drawers.  
  
\--

Knox sighed from the desk, paging through his Latin homework assignment, too occupied to pay any attention to the words he was trying to scan over. He could feel Charlie’s eyes on him.

“Do you think-?”

“Is something-?”

Knox turned in his chair. Charlie had a goofy grin on his face.

“You first,” Charlie offered, with a flourish of his hand.

“Okay,” Knox let the words form in his head before speaking. “Say, if I had an opportunity to really go after something…you know, take a real risk even if it doesn’t work out,” he looked down at his fingers. “Do you think I should take it?”

Charlie blew out a mouthful of smoke, noting Knox’s downward gaze.

“I mean, if it’s something you…really want,” Charlie let his pause hover in the air for a moment, his eyes on Knox. “Yeah, I think you should. That’s what Keating’s trying to tell us, isn’t it? Carpe diem.”

Knox swallowed.

“All right. Yeah,” he said. “Then I’m gonna do it. Tomorrow.”  
  
~

Charlie’s heartbeat had no business picking up speed, but it did.  
He knew he shouldn’t, but it was too damn difficult to stop hope from seeping into his bloodstream.

Fighting to keep his voice casual, he responded, “Oh, yeah? What’s this all about, anyway?”

Knox just kept smiling at him. Jesus, he was hard to resist.

“Carpe diem,” Knox said, simply.  
  
\--

Charlie woke the following morning, peering across the room to see that Knox was not there.  
Charlie felt a dull ache in his heart and in his boxers.  
Every damn morning.  
Well, not the ache in his chest. That was only present whenever his best friend wasn’t.

Today he had trigonometry first, which was just bad organisation on the school’s part because nobody’s brain worked that early in the morning, especially not when they had complex emotional equations to figure out as well.  
It was surprising to discover that Knox was late to class, despite his earlier absence at breakfast. After a half hour had passed, Charlie realised that Knox wasn’t late to class, he was skipping.

At lunch, when Knox still hadn’t turned up, Charlie felt anxiety creeping into his bloodstream to replace the last of the hope from yesterday.  
He found the dead poets study group and took a seat next to Neil.

“Charlie!” said Pitts, attempting to enunciate around a mouthful of bread.

“Anyone seen Knox today?” Charlie asked, trying his hardest to sound unaffected.

“He’s your roommate,” Neil pointed out. “Didn’t you open your eyes this morning?”

Charlie ignored the jab.  
“He left before I got up. Wasn’t in trig, either,” Charlie added, glancing around the dining hall.

“He skipped?” Neil frowned.

Todd arrived at their table carrying a plate of spaghetti and sat on the other side of Neil. They shared a tender look. Charlie decided not to comment.

“Todd, if you’ve seen Knox,” Meeks chimed in, “apparently Charlie’s too unobservant to keep track of him.”

Todd hummed behind a mouthful of spaghetti, swallowing hastily.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, didn’t he tell you?”

Luckily for Meeks, Charlie needed answers more than he needed to exact sweet verbal revenge. 

“No, what?” he asked, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.  
  
“Something about gathering rosebuds while the sun shines?” Todd said. “You know, Mr Keating’s seize the day stuff.”

Of course. Charlie should have pieced that together after their conversation yesterday.  
Neil shot a subtle calculating look his way.

“If I knew seizing the day meant skipping trig I would have done it sooner,” Charlie said, rising to get food and to avoid acknowledging the sideways glance from Neil.

Neil could think what he liked. Charlie had more important things to worry about.  
He had encouraged his best friend to act for once; to seize an opportunity. If Knox hadn’t been so damn secretive about exactly what he wanted to seize, maybe Charlie wouldn’t be quite so on edge about the whole thing.

Guilt about his feelings for Knox grew every day that he kept them secret.  
Charlie Dalton was a lot of things, but a hypocrite would _not_ be one of them.  
He couldn’t tell his best friend to take risks if Charlie was going to remain passive himself.  
If Knox was out there seizing the day, then damn it, so would he.

So, maybe Charlie was a little terrified. He knew that his options were to either let himself die a slow, painful death from pining for his best friend, or, he could do more. Be more.

Today.  
  
Today was the day to finally be honest about his feelings for Knox.  
That was, if he ever returned from whatever he was doing ‘while the sun shone’.

\--

As the bell rang signalling the end of classes for the day, Charlie made his way to the dorms, not fully aware of his movements.  
Knox hadn’t returned, and the longer Charlie sat alone, the more time his nerves had to stew.

_Overstreet, I like you. As more than a friend._

_Hey, idiot. I have feelings for you. Romantically, as the poets say._

_Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate._

_Knox. You’ve been my best friend since we met. You’re my favourite person. And I have something to tell you._ _  
__  
_By the time the dinner bell chimed, Charlie had smoked four cigarettes and changed his mind so many times he wasn’t entirely sure what would come out of his mouth when his roommate walked through the door.

Right then, almost poetically, Knox burst into the room.

“Charlie!” he gasped, panting as if he had run a mile.

“Knoxious,” Charlie said, hoping to hell he sounded calm. “Um, I have to tell you something.”

Knox was practically buzzing.

“Don’t you wanna know what I’ve been doing all day?”

Well, another minute to compose himself wouldn’t hurt. Charlie gave a hand gesture that signalled for Knox to go on.

“Okay. Okay,” Knox started pacing. Stopped. Started again. “First, thank you for your advice yesterday. You know, about going for my shot.” Knox leaned against the wall. “Because I went to see Chris at her school today.”

Charlie’s heart jolted unpleasantly.  
Chris’ name had cropped up a few times over the past few weeks, ever since Knox went over to dinner at the Danburry house.  
Their friends had teased Knox about her but he never seemed that interested, so Charlie hadn’t really been worried.  
Clearly he should have been.

“I talked to her between classes, but she wouldn’t hear me out. Her old boyfriend, Chet Danburry, is super possessive and she didn’t want me to get hurt. Me! She was concerned about me!”

Charlie forced a laugh at his friend’s disbelief, his heart dropping lower than his stomach.

“That guy could eat a football,” Charlie said faintly.

“I was up half the night writing a poem for her, so I had to read it to her, you know? No matter what she said after. So, I went to her classroom and I read it out loud. She was speechless for a whole minute,” Knox paused to emphasise the moment. Charlie loved listening to his stories, although this one was killing him inside.

“Then she says, ‘Knox, you are so infuriating.’”

Charlie laughed for real this time.

“‘You are so infuriating, but okay. I’ll give you a chance.’” Knox waited for a reaction, but Charlie was too slow in responding. Knox continued.

“Guess where we’re going two weeks from Friday. Neil’s play. I’m taking a girl to a play, Charlie! On a _date_.”

Charlie pulled himself together enough to form words, weak though they were.

“Wow, poetry actually scored you a date.”

Knox was beaming. Charlie barely held his composure as cracks ran through his heart.

“Mr K. was right, it’s about wooing women,” Knox said, with less far less excitement now. Charlie would have given anything to know why. Instead, Knox said, “Dinner has probably started...we should get there before it’s all gone.”

Charlie scrambled for a lie.

“I didn’t get a chance to shower, but I’ll catch you there.”

“Suit yourself.” Knox opened the door to leave. “Oh, you had something to tell me?”

“Yeah, just…homework you need to catch up on. It can wait.”

Knox grinned, walking backwards down the hall with his hands raised in a shrug. “Carpe diem!”

Charlie watched him bump into the wall before turning the corner towards the dining hall.

“Right. Carpe diem.”


	6. Let's Have a Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for underage drinking in this chapter.

Charlie was suffocating from more than one cause.  
The first was the atmosphere at Ginny Danburry’s house party.  
Ginny had invited Chris, who had invited Knox, who had invited the dead poets group.  
Charlie would usually find a productive use of his time at this kind of party, but he didn’t exactly feel like chatting anyone up tonight.  
  
The house was filled with rowdy teenagers who smoked all day and couldn’t dance to save their lives.

The second cause of Charlie’s suffering was conversation _._ He was with the study group, but nobody was really themselves at these kind of parties, which made hanging out more of a chore than a choice.  
Charlie couldn’t care less about how Tracy Wright’s sister was doing at her new school, or how cool the model of Mighty Mutt’s new car made him.

The third cause was Knox Overstreet.  
Charlie had made the decision to brave the dancing scene, if only to escape the dullest conversation he’d ever heard between Pitts and a girl he didn’t know about some milk bar opening across town.

Charlie tried to channel the depressing feeling of dancing alone into a healthy amount of arrogance; just enough to appear confident.  
A tap on his shoulder had him turning face to face with Knox. Charlie’s pulse stuttered at his unexpected proximity. This close, Charlie could see all the flecks of colour in Knox’s eyes.

“How Pittsie can discuss a milk bar in _that_ much detail could stump philosophers,” said Knox. Charlie grinned.  
  
“Froth to milk ratio in strawberry shakes isn’t riveting enough for you?”

Knox rolled his eyes.  
“As if that’s not the reason you left.”

“As a matter of fact, I came up here because dancing is one of my great passions. I’m thinking of pursuing it as a career once I graduate.”

“Oh, sure,” Knox smiled, pulling Charlie closer by his hands; positioning one at his waist and one at his shoulder. Charlie focussed on controlling his breathing. “So how is it that you’re the worst dancer I’ve ever met, then?”

Charlie feigned offence, fighting to dissipate the butterflies he felt at holding Knox in his arms.

“Maybe I’m the worst,” he said. “But only if we don’t include you in the equation, Knoxious.”

Joking like this was easy. It was right; teasing Knox while they both failed to hide matching grins.  
Knox stepped closer, attempting to lead them in a kind of circle, which ended up being a messy side-to-side stepping motion instead.

“Thank you for illustrating my point,” Charlie joked, letting the hand on Knox’s shoulder inch up to the base of his neck.  
Alcohol made him bolder, apparently. He could feel Knox’s heartbeat. His pulse was quick, but that was from the drinks and exercise, Charlie reasoned.

  
“You’re welcome,” Knox murmured. Knox kept his gaze on Charlie’s face, making it difficult for him to stay calm.

On the rarest of occasions, Charlie would let his eyes drift to Knox’s lips. Perhaps the vodka he had downed earlier made this slip easier than usual, because his eyes flitted down to them now.

Knox imitated his gaze, staring for a moment at Charlie’s mouth before looking directly into his eyes.  
Charlie’s chest felt tight. Without meaning to, he sucked a little of his lower lip into his mouth and bit down.  
Maybe the lights were tricking his eyes, but Charlie thought he saw Knox do the same to his own bottom lip.  
Charlie’s mouth opened just barely in surprise. Knox rested a hand on Charlie’s lower back.

The touch, though slight, was irresistibly addictive. He wanted more than the softest brush of fingertips.

“Knox…” he left the sentence unfinished, mostly due to the fact that his thoughts were processing with a significant amount of lag.

Charlie watched Knox swallow, wondering how it would feel to kiss his throat.

“We’re being taught poetry, but I don’t know how to find the words I need for this,” Knox said, sounding anxious.

Charlie thought about what to say to convince his roommate to at least try.  
His expression must have said enough, though, because Knox was taking a deep breath, preparing to say more.

“Charlie,” Knox faltered. “Jesus, I wish I had the guts to say it. To just tell you how much you mean to me.”

Charlie’s eyes were wide. The moment he had fantasised about countless times was unfolding right in front of him. He had to be sure.

“You mean in a- in a friendship kind of way?”

Knox looked like he’d taken a glass of cold water to the face.  
Charlie was too busy trying to regain taste in his mouth to figure out his error.

“Oh,” Knox breathed. “It’s not the same for you. Shit.”  
He backed away, rushing from the dance floor.

“Wait, Knox,” Charlie cried, chasing after him. “Knox!”

“Hey Dalton, come here!” Cameron appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Charlie by the arm and leading him in a different direction.

“Not now, Cameron,” Charlie said, trying to tug away from his grip. “I’m in the middle of something that is more important than anything you could have to show me right now. Let go!”

Cameron didn’t listen, continuing to lead him by the arm.  
“You won’t want to miss this, trust me.”

“Cameron!” he hissed, growing more frustrated by the second. Charlie finally yanked himself free.  
Cameron had dragged him to a couch where three beautiful girls were sitting.  
  
“We hear you’re a poet,” one of the girls said.

Charlie would murder Cameron for this, but first he had to talk to Knox; he left the group of girls without answering them. 

“Hey Neil, Neil, have you seen Knox? He was here a minute ago,” Charlie asked as he ran into Neil on his way back to Knox.

Neil took in his desperation, looking concerned.  
“Uh, yeah, he went upstairs, I think,” he provided. “Hey, are you okay?”  
  
Charlie couldn’t answer, almost bolting to take the stairs two at a time. He reached the top, checking every room in the upper hallway. Halfway down, he found Knox. 

“Knox?”

He was sitting on the edge of a queen-sized bed, well into a make out session with Chris. They broke apart when he entered.  
It hurt more than it should to see them kissing, but Charlie still felt hopeful that he could fix this.  
Knox looked at him with wild eyes. It unsettled him.

“Um,” Charlie said, unsure now if he should push. “Can- can we talk?”

“Surely it can wait?” Chris asked. She looked to Knox for confirmation, but he just stared at Charlie. He didn’t say anything for a long time, and fine, Charlie wasn’t here to play games.

“Fine. Screw this,” he said. _Screw this._  
Charlie returned to the party. If Knox wanted to mess with his head then Charlie definitely needed more alcohol.  
The girls Cameron introduced him to called Charlie back over to where they were sitting. Charlie grabbed a beer, downing half of it before taking a seat between the three of them.

“So, ladies,” he said, hoping like hell that he could somehow dull the part of him that was dying. “You want some poetry, huh? I’ll write something for you right now."  
He stared into space for a second, remembering the look in Knox’s eyes when they were dancing and how drastically it had changed when he rushed in on Knox kissing Chris.  
Charlie glanced between the girls, smirking.  
After a pause of pretending to compose a line of poetry, wherein he ran through a Byron verse in his head, Charlie laid it on thick.  
“So soft, so calm, yet eloquent...the smiles that win, the tints that glow, but tell of days in goodness spent. A mind at peace with all below, a heart whose love is innocent.”  
  
~  
  


Chris wouldn’t look away from Knox.  
He sat staring at the hall where Charlie had been standing just seconds before.  
Knox had read Charlie’s interrogation during their dance as hostile. It couldn’t be anything else, right? That was why he came after him? To hit him or to express his disgust with Knox, or something.  
  
But then, Charlie seemed more inquisitive when he arrived…desperate, even. It didn’t turn to disgust until the last moment.  
No, Knox was kidding himself. He was reading way too much into this.  
Charlie couldn’t have feelings for him besides anything platonic, and possibly not even that now that Knox had opened his dumb mouth.

“What was that about?” Chris asked. She sounded more worried than annoyed.

Knox took a breath, turning to face his dismal reality.  
He tried to speak.  
Nothing but a faint choke came out. Knox swallowed hard.

“That was…” _That was the love of my life and I completely ruined everything, and he’ll probably never speak to me again._ “Don’t worry about it. He gets weird when he’s drunk.”

Chris didn’t seem fully satisfied with his explanation, but thankfully she left it alone.

“Wanna go back down and join the party?” she asked.

“And have to deal with Charlie being unpredictable? I’d rather stay up here.”

Chris smiled at him.  
She truly was beautiful. Knox knew he was lucky to be with her.  
The other poets were constantly reminding him that Knox dating Chris must be a ‘miracle orchestrated by God himself’, as Meeks put it. Which seemed like a slight overreaction.  
Chris was great and all, but the boys exaggerated, most likely to tease him. He didn’t really get the dating thing. Everyone else was obsessed with girls, but Knox found having a girlfriend underwhelming. He supposed there was a reason for that, and knew what it was, but it was easier to ignore it.

_Tap, tap, tap._

A short, brunette girl peered around the doorframe.  
Perhaps Knox should have chosen a different room. This one seemed to get a lot more traffic than desired.  
Before he could say anything, Chris was standing to meet the other girl, arms wide open.

“Ginny!” Their hug muffled her words. “It’s so good to see you."

The other girl, Ginny, beamed over Chris’ shoulder.  
  
“You too, Chris. I’ve missed you. How long has it been?” They pulled apart and Knox rose to greet Ginny.

“Must be over six months by now,” Chris answered. “I couldn’t find you when we arrived, so I assumed you were out somewhere.”

“I was trying to wrangle Chet away,” Ginny sounded exasperated. “Don’t worry, though, he doesn’t know you’re here. But Chris, who’s this handsome boy you’ve stashed away in a dark room?” Ginny extended a hand to Knox, who dutifully shook it.

“Knox Overstreet.”

“He goes to Welton,” Chris provided.

“Ah, that’s why I’ve never seen you around. Well, you must come with us to the opening of ‘Midsummer Night’s’. Everyone will be there.”

Knox began to explain that he already had plans to go with Chris, but she cut him off.

“More of the Welton boys are here if you’re interested in meeting them,” Chris offered, keeping her eyes on Ginny. The girls started to head back downstairs, lost in conversation.  
  
Chris had essentially forgotten his presence once she reunited with Ginny.  
It didn’t bother him, but he had had a few drinks earlier, and in addition to everything that happened with Charlie, his mind was spinning.  
Knox didn’t think he had been more confused in his whole life, including the time Meeks read out his ‘poetry’ to the God of the Cave two weeks ago.  
It hadn’t been a poem so much as a barely rhyming essay of dull prose and incomprehensible mathematic terminology. Suffice it to say, he was baffled. 

Having no options other than returning to the main event, Knox felt on edge. He tried to calm his nerves. Maybe Charlie left the party out of shame or anger and Knox wouldn’t have to deal with seeing it in person.  
Reasoning wasn’t quite as effective as the alcohol he found in the kitchen, which he swallowed in an attempt to blur some of the abysmal evening.  
Realising that Chris and Ginny were nowhere near him, Knox scanned the crowd of tipsy, socialising teenagers in the hopes of finding a familiar, non-stress-inducing face.

“Overstreet!”

“Neil, thank god,” Knox sighed, stumbled across to the couch where Neil and Todd were seated. “And Todd, the hidden poet.”

Neil leant across to murmur in Todd’s ear. Todd smiled, giving Neil a small nod.

“Take me for a spin, will you?” Neil asked Knox, standing and pulling him towards the dwindling crowd of dancers. “Where’s Chris tonight?” he asked, after they found a partway decent rhythm of swaying, which could also be referred to as ‘almost tripping’.

“Around. A friend of hers, Ginny Danburry, showed up. She’s probably with her.”

“Seen Charlie?” Neil asked.

Knox met his friend’s eyes.  
  
“Not for a while, why?”

Neil shrugged.  
  
“You two are kind of inseparable.”

Knox let Neil spin him under his arm, regaining some semblance of balance before gathering his thoughts.  
They received a half-hearted, drunken cat call from somewhere in the crowd. Knox thought it might have been from Todd.

“Maybe not so much after tonight,” Knox said.

Neil looked at him, eyes knowing.  
“Give him time,” Neil said. “I have a feeling the wait will be worth it.”

But Neil hadn’t heard the conversation Knox had with Charlie earlier on this same dance floor. Knox shook his head.

“I-” Knox paused to catch his breath before his voice left him entirely, “I tried, he doesn’t…”

No more words seemed to want to come out, so Knox just shook his head again. Neil’s gaze was firm.

“Give him a chance to think things over,” Neil said. He seemed confident that Charlie would come around, and it almost gave Knox hope. Almost. “Don’t give up, Overstreet. I won’t let you.”

One final stumbling trip-step ended the conversation. Neil returned to the couch to sit close by Todd’s side as the song ended.

Knox was left alone once again, wondering when his life became this dramatic.

He was so caught up in thought that he paid no mind to his girlfriend wandering outside hand-in-hand with Ginny Danburry.


	7. Milkshakes

“What am I gonna do, Neil?”  
  
As much as Charlie was willing to diss the milk bar at Ginny’s party, he found it was actually a great spot. Pittsie was right after all.   
A moment of contemplation passed between Neil and Charlie as they sat at one of the booths.

“You’re going to finish your milkshake,” said Neil. “Then you’re going to come with me and Todd to the dead poets’ cave and we’re going to help you.”

“I appreciate the gesture but I’m really not in the mood.”

“What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you and Todd are great and I think of you as my best friends but that’s just not what I’m looking for right now.”

“Oh, wow, no,” Neil cringed. “Charlie, come on. That is not what I meant. At all.”

“Oh.”

“How Knox even likes you is beyond me,” Neil sighed.

“Well, he obviously likes _Chris_. I’m just an idiot.”

“Look, just come to the cave. Do I have your word?”

Charlie swirled the straw in his milkshake.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll be there. Dead poet’s honour.”

Neil grinned.

\--

Faint, obnoxious bongo drumming alerted Neil and Todd of their friend’s approach. The boy in question appeared in a gust of crunching leaves and musical bravado.

“Poets! Friends!” A jaunty drum rhythm interlude filled the cave. “God of the Cave,” Charlie bowed and saluted. “Why are we gathered here on this depressing evening if not to warm each other up?” he smirked.  
Neil rolled his eyes while a look of horror crossed Todd’s face.

“Ugh, Charlie, do you want help or not?” Todd asked.

“Not,” said Charlie, although his decision to sit down indicated otherwise.

“Look,” Neil began. “You’re in love with Knox.”  
Charlie didn’t speak, choosing instead to shoot daggers at Neil with his eyes. “And what are we all part of this club for if not living life the way it deserves to be lived?” 

Charlie ran fingers over the lid of his drum, unable to argue.

“We all want to be the truest versions of ourselves, and one way to do that is through poetry.”

“You think I should write a poem confessing my feelings and recite it to him?” Charlie asked. “I’m sure that’ll go down well at the next meeting.”

Neil shrugged.

“What matters is expressing what you feel. How you do that is up to you, but…” Neil paused to look at Todd. “You need to get it out there, Charlie.”

Todd cleared his throat softly.

“Yeah, Charlie, look at us,” he added, gesturing to Neil. “If neither of us knew how the other felt, we wouldn’t be together. And now we are. Thanks to poetry.”

Charlie watched them interacting with such adoration, and it framed his own situation more clearly.  
Maybe telling Knox how he felt wouldn’t lead to the same result for him, but at least he wouldn’t be carrying the weight of the secret around anymore. His friends were wiser than he gave them credit for being. 

“Okay, okay,” Charlie agreed. “I think I have an idea.”


	8. The Cave

Knox hated to admit how amused he was when Charlie blared tunelessly through his saxophone, effectively gaining everyone’s attention. The two hadn’t spoken since the party, but Charlie hadn’t requested a room change or anything so Knox counted it as a win.

“What do you say we start this meeting? Poetrusic, by Charles Dalton," Charlie started. He tweedled on the instrument again, making the boys laugh.

"Laughing, crying, tumbling, mumbling, gotta do more, gotta be more.” His words were followed by more saxophone blaring and a few chuckles.

“Chaos dreaming, chaos screaming, gotta do more, gotta _be more_.”

He played a genuine tune, then, startling everyone into silence. Knox started at the ground, not simply listening to the music like everyone else, but really _hearing_ it. The notes were full of emotion; pleading.  
Knox felt his heartbeat pick up in pace.  
He wished he weren’t so utterly gone for the boy standing in front of him, but it was undeniable.  
Knox had spent a long time trying to suppress it, but hearing Charlie’s song now made it impossible _not_ to love him. Charlie was funny, witty, gorgeous, daring, full of life and passion.  
It killed Knox any time he felt the urge to be closer to Charlie, but didn’t act on it.  
He felt himself coming apart as Charlie played, no longer able to pretend.

Charlie turned in a slow arc, eventually facing Knox and kneeling to play directly in front of him.

Oh. So all that pleading, all the emotion...it was for Knox. A love letter. A confession. Questions demanding answers that Knox was terrified to give. He wasn't in this alone after all.  
The soulful song ended. As soon as Charlie stopped playing, Knox ached for the music to continue.

Charlie deserved everything Knox wasn't giving him. Maybe he would give in, be true to himself for a night.

Of course, Knox wanted to give Charlie more than one night.  
He hoped that would be possible, but thinking too much could mess up everything.  
  
Knox was just going to let himself, for once, feel everything that had been bubbling inside for so long.  
Everything he had felt since the day he arrived at Welton and began to change.  
He had Charlie to thank for helping him understand love, no matter how difficult it was to face. Charlie rose from his kneeling position.  
Knox wished he would stay.

Charlie said little during the rest of the meeting, remaining earnest and sombre.  
Knox knew now that he was at fault for the hurt Charlie was feeling. He didn't want to live a lie anymore.  
  
As the boys filtered out of the cave, Knox turned back and noticed Charlie still perched quietly on his rock. Knox opened his mouth to speak, but Neil beat him to it.

“Catch you guys later!”  
  
And then it was just Knox standing at the entrance.

Charlie held his saxophone in his lap, almost cradling it in the silence.

“That was some poem,” Knox said, crunching his way back to the middle of the cave.

Charlie didn't move. This was up to Knox.  
He tentatively lowered himself onto the rock next to Charlie. “It…it was for me, wasn’t it? All those words we couldn’t find. You put them into music.”  
Charlie's eyes flickered to Knox's. He looked so damn vulnerable that Knox wanted to hold him until everything bad in the world fell away into nothing. Instead, he shifted so his body faced Charlie's, committing to the moment. “And I know there was a question in it. My answer...I don’t know what it will be. That’s not the answer I want to give you. I _want_ to say I can do this. Most of the time it feels impossible, but...there’s something different about tonight.”

Charlie looked at Knox properly, then. The intensity in his gaze melted Knox's train of thought and he had to scramble to find it again.

"Do you know what I mean? There's a quality to the air that's kind of...more.”

"What are you saying?" Charlie whispered, and even that felt too loud. Words were too much in the cave with just the two of them.

“What I'm saying, Charlie, is...”

Knox didn't really know, but he desperately wanted to kiss Charlie and if he did, he wouldn't need to find more dumb words that weren't good enough.

Knox put a hand on the saxophone, lifting it away and carefully placing it on the ground.  
He caught Charlie's next breath with his lips, pressing a hand softly to the back of his head.  
  
Knox pulled away slightly to give Charlie a chance to react but after a small surprised exhale from Charlie he was quickly drawn into a proper kiss.  
They both sparked to life at the friction between their lips, only allowing a second or two for air between kisses.

Charlie's hands found Knox's waist and he held onto him firmly, sliding a hand up Knox's back.   
Knox never knew how amazing a hand on his back could feel.  
It spurred him to grasp at Charlie's hair, never letting the kissing slow down.  
It was delicious, addictive. It felt like his first kiss.

Knox placed a hand over Charlie’s heart, feeling it beat a frantic rhythm in his chest.  
Knox was drowning in Charlie and he didn't want to stop.  
  
Eventually they did, if only to gasp in much-needed air.  
Knox pressed his face to Charlie's, breathing against his cheek. Their flushed skin burned at the contact, setting them alight.  
Knox sighed, nuzzling closer so he was hugging Charlie around the waist.

“This is what you've been keeping from me?” Charlie joked, but Knox heard the poorly-disguised pain in his voice.  
He dropped a kiss to Charlie's shoulder, and leaned back far enough to look into his eyes.

Charlie, lips redder than usual, huffed a small laugh at Knox's concern.

“Knox. Don't give me that.”

“What?”

Charlie licked his lips subconsciously.  
  
“Never mind, just...can we keep kissing now?”

Knox knew there were things that desperately needed to be said between them, but he let it go for now.

"Won't you read a poem for me, oh great Nuwanda of the Dead Poets Society?"

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

Knox groaned and pulled away.

"Thou art more lovely and more temperate," Charlie laughed. "No? How about, he walks in beauty like the night?"

Knox was supposed to groan again, and Charlie would tease him and they could kiss until the sun rose. Instead, Knox's face fell, and he grew silent. Charlie altered it for him, but the original line played in Knox’s head, _she walks in beauty like the night_.

"Knox? What is it?"

Knox bit his lip and let it go.

"You know."

"What about all that stuff you said about tonight being different? Being more?" Charlie demanded. "Jesus, doesn’t this mean _anything_ to you?"

Knox closed his eyes. When he opened them, all of Charlie's emotions were visible in his expression; confusion, frustration, affection. It was so much. Too much.

"It means more than words or poetry or song can express, Charlie."

"Then can't we have a little longer? Please?"

Knox took another breath. He lay Charlie's overcoat on the floor of the cave, and gestured for Charlie to lie next to him.  
They settled into a comfortable position. Charlie traced the edges of moonlight touching Knox's skin. Maybe this, simply breathing together, could be enough.

"I am yours, you know that?" Charlie said, his voice small.  
Knox breathed his name, unsure of how to respond.  
Charlie ran fingertips down Knox's upper arm to his elbow and back up again. It soothed them both. "Why won’t you have me?"

Both boys let their pulses fill the silence. Alive, alive, alive. Knox swallowed.

"I…" Knox let the air swallow the rest of his sentence.

"What?”

Knox turned onto his back, away from Charlie's gentle strokes.

"Chris, me, us," Knox sighed. "All of it. It's such a mess and I don't know how to fix anything or where to go from here."

Charlie warily connected their palms, letting their fingers fold together.

"Hey, we'll figure things out,” Charlie said, to comfort himself as well as Knox. “Everything's gonna be okay."  
  
Knox wasn't sure if anything would be okay again.

~

Charlie must have fallen asleep between soothing Knox and worrying about what the next step would be for them.  
He woke to empty arms and cold, aching limbs.

Charlie scrambled to his feet, noting the glow of light from the cave entrance.  
It had to be mid-morning by now, which meant Charlie was supposed to be halfway through history class.  
He bolted to the school, debating whether he should make a late entrance and get penalised in person or if he should skip the lesson and get the notes off Meeks afterwards.

Charlie decided to freshen up and pretend he had caught a fever, piling blankets onto his bed and crawling under them.  
The barely snatched hours of sleep he'd gained in the dead poets’ cave left him exhausted and blissfully aware of how luxurious mattresses were.

A rapping at the door yanked him from a shallow dream involving Knox's boyish hands. Meeks, Pitts and Neil poured into the room, out of breath.

"Boys," Charlie rasped, faking a cough, "I'm dying."

"Have you seen Knox?" Neil asked, ignoring the attempts at faked illness. Charlie frowned.

"Not since…" he cleared his throat. "Not since the meeting last night."

Neil met his eyes for a moment. There was an urgency in his gaze; they needed to talk privately, and soon.

"Well, if he turns up, tell him we were looking for him," Meeks said.

"Why? What's going on?" Charlie asked, folding back the covers to sit up. Pitts looked at Meeks. Meeks looked at Pitts. Neil looked at them both.

"Tell me," Charlie demanded, standing. If something had happened to Knox’s family, or even to Chris...Charlie needed to know.

"It's Chris," said Pitts.

"What? What about her? Would you spit it out, Pittsie?"

"It was when we were coming back from the cave last night," Pitts explained. "Down by the stream. Chris was there...with a- with a friend...”

Neil finished, "They were kissing. And a little more than kissing."

The boys blushed. Charlie was sure he had misheard them.

"You- wait a minute, just…” Charlie put a hand to his forehead. "Are you sure?"

"It was definitely her, Charlie," Meeks chimed in. "And the girl she was with, I think her name is Ginny. My parents know her parents. I've seen her once or twice at the Danburry's."

Charlie's head was pounding. He strode past the group, leading a quick pace through the dorm hall. The boys followed, Neil in front. 

"We have to find him," Charlie muttered, peering into all the open rooms. Crowds of boys filled the stairways, making it almost impossible to pick anyone from the masses. Neil touched Charlie's shoulder, and when he turned around Meeks and Pitts were gone.

"Hey, what happened last night?" Neil asked.

Not prepared for the inquiry, Charlie faltered. He could feel the memory of Knox's lips against his own, warm and electric. A tiny smile slipped onto his face before he could stop himself. Neil mirrored it, before turning sincere.

"Then you have to tell him about this. Pittsie's skeptical, he says it'd do more harm than good. But I see you. I see how much you...well, you have to tell him."

Charlie sighed.  
It would hurt Knox to find out that Chris was cheating on him, but keeping quiet when they knew the truth could be more harmful in the end.  
He quashed the tiny voice in his head that whispered words of hope, of longing.  
This was about Knox, not Charlie.

He returned to his room after a few minutes, deciding it was the most likely place for Knox to show up.

A wasted hour of unproductive studying later, Charlie lifted his head from his textbook at a small sound. Knox stood in the doorway, the image of hesitance.  
Charlie's heart thumped once out of time.

"Hey, we've been looking for you all day,” Charlie said.

Knox entered, sinking to his mattress.

"Sorry. I needed time to think."

Knox made eye contact with Charlie, eyes full of unspoken answers. Charlie tried to remember how words worked.

"There's something I need to tell you," he started. Knox turned apprehensive.  
It sent a faint crack through Charlie's soul, but he knew he had to do this. He sat down opposite Knox, hands folded.

"If this is about..." Knox started. Charlie waited, letting his sentence trail into nothing.

"It's about Chris."

"Oh. Look, you know we're in a pretty serious relationship.”

"Right, that’s what I have to talk to you about," Charlie paused. "She...Chris was seen by Neil and Meeks and Todd and Pitts..." Charlie kicked himself internally for drawing his words out. "Um, kissing someone else."

Knox didn't react at first. After a few moments he just looked confused and Charlie wished this wasn't so difficult. Hurt coloured Knox's features.

"I can't believe this.”

Charlie placed a hand on Knox’s knee for comfort.

"I really thought you were above this, Charlie."

Wait, what?

"I get that last night was a big deal, but trying to break me up with Chris by lying is something I never thought you would do," Knox babbled, obviously feeling a degree of betrayal that was entirely _un_ justified. Knox shoved Charlie’s hand from his leg.

"Wait a second," Charlie tried, but Knox didn’t let him get far. Knox was standing now, pacing the room. 

"I mean, yeah, we kissed, okay? Fuck, we did and it was-” he stopped himself short. “But I've already committed to being with Chris and you need to respect that."

Charlie stood, affronted by the accusation.

"Knox, I didn't make this shit up. Ask the others. They're the ones who saw it happen."

Knox stopped pacing.  
"How do you expect me to believe this?"

Charlie gestured with his hands in an attempt to find a solution.

"Because I'm your friend," he said. "And you have my word that I'm telling the truth. Dead poets honour.”

Silence. Knox shook his head.

"I wish it was enough, but I know that you..." he glanced toward the door, deliberately lowering his voice, "...have feelings for me.” Charlie let out a bitter laugh _._ “It just doesn't add up to Chris cheating."

Charlie inhaled deeply. Exhaled slowly.

"I'm telling you this because I care about you,” he choked out, determined not to break before saying his piece. “And don't give me that line as if you don't return my feelings because I know you better than you think, Overstreet. If you'd rather believe that I would lie to you about something like this than take my word for it, that's your choice. Just don't expect me to be okay with it."

Charlie couldn't bear another minute of the tension. He rose from his bed, forcing a neutral expression as he slammed the door on his way out.  
Once he reached a private bathroom stall, he knew it would be noisy enough that a breakdown could go unnoticed.

All Charlie saw when he shut his eyes was Knox's shocked expression before he left the room.  


The boy of his affections was unattainable, and Charlie wasn't sure they could come back from this.  
He stayed in the bathroom until after lights out and only returned to the dorm room when he was sure Knox would be asleep. It didn’t matter anyway - the room was empty.

Another day in this hell of a school might kill him, Charlie thought, as he tried and failed to drift to sleep.


	9. O To Attract By More Than Attraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Thank you so much for reading <3

The worst part of all this was that Knox really did want to believe Charlie.  
He wanted Chris to be in love with someone else, he wanted to trust his best friend. And somewhere deep in an unacknowledged part of himself, he did.  
  
It was unfair to lash out and make accusations, but Knox was conflicted.  
He had invested so much time - though, not necessarily _effort_ \- into his relationship with Chris because it had never felt like he had another option.  
  
His parents wanted him to finish his studies, get married, have children and support a family.  
The narrative of it had been drilled into him so many times that when he met Chris, asking her on a date had seemed like the obvious thing to do.  
So he had, even though it meant guilt grew in his stomach with each passing day.  
  
When Charlie told him Chris had been with someone else, Knox's first instinct had been to resist.  
To shelter the truth in his heart, as he had been doing since the day he arrived at Welton.  
  
After spending that night in the cave with Charlie, he had discovered how exceptional it felt to be with the right person.  
It made his relationship with Chris that much harder and that much more essential.  
  
If he let himself be with Charlie now and something bad happened further down the line, Knox wasn’t sure if he would be able to survive it. Surely that would hurt more than staying with the girl he already knew, and not giving in to his desires.  
  
Knox didn’t feel like he had much strength left in him. If Charlie gave him any more reasons to be together, he might cave. And he couldn’t do that.  
Could he?  
  
He was so caught up in thought, that he almost collided with Neil on his way to class.

“Knox!”

“Hey, Neil.”

“Hey, listen," Neil said. "Charlie told me a little about what happened the other night. Well, he didn’t say anything, but I kind of pieced it together.”

Knox’s eyes were wide.

“Don’t worry, I get it. I mean, I _get_ it," said Neil. He glanced around them quickly. "I don’t know if Charlie told you...about Chris?”  
  
Knox felt goosebumps run along his skin. No way. There was no way this was happening. 

“So, you saw…?” he tried, desperate and confused.  
  
Neil lifted one shoulder in a shrug which Knox took as a reluctant yes.

“Talk to her,” Neil said.

Knox shook his head.  
  
“You don’t understand.”  
  
“I do. Maybe not your specific situation, but I know it’s easier to fit in when you hide it. And I know you won’t ever be happy if you do," Neil said. "The future isn’t written. Isn’t Keating teaching us that love is all we’ve got?” Knox flushed at the word love. “The moments we have _right now_...that’s what life is. Don’t throw it away,” Neil continued on his path to class, leaving Knox with a final thought. “Dalton might not have an endless capacity for second chances.”  
  
\--  
  
Knox had a difficult time imagining Chris with someone else.  
She was so kind, it didn’t seem like something she would do. But then, he supposed his own appearance - heterosexual - wasn’t based in fact, so anything was possible.

He stood by the phone after his final class of the day, hoping courage would strike him from somewhere.  
  
To suspect the truth was one thing, but facing it directly required more guts.  
  
Knox had never really been known for his bold or confident choices.  
This time it mattered. This time the most important person in his life would be affected by Knox’s choice.  
  
Neil had been right earlier. Neil was always right.  
Knox knew he would never be satisfied if he kept denying an integral part of who he was.  
Life was too unpredictable and chaotic to waste it by pretending to be something he wasn't. Knox wanted to _live_ , rather than simply exist. This phone call was his chance to change that.

He lifted the receiver and dialled Chris’ number. 

She answered before he could talk himself out of calling.  
  
“Hello?”

“Chris?”

“Oh, Knox! Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, feeling his hands clam up. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Are you? Is that why you’re calling?”

“No,” he said, answering both questions. “Well, I do want to know how you are, but there’s something else.”

“Okay…” Knox took a deep breath. He could do this. He had to do this. “Knox? Are you there?”

“I’m here. I have a question.”

“Okay.”

He exhaled.

“Do you like me?”

“What?” she laughed, “Of course I like you.”

“What I mean is, do you want to be with me? My friends are claiming that...that you might not. I mean, they saw you. The other night.”

The pause that followed was so long that Knox might have worried that she hung up on him, except that he could hear her breathing.

“Chris? I won’t be angry or anything. I just need to hear the truth because I’m going out of my mind not knowing,” he pleaded.

“Yes,” she whispered. Knox held very still at her words, dread and hope filling his chest. “It's true. I’m seeing Ginny,” Chris said. “I do still like you, Knox. I just can’t like you in the way you want me to. I’m sorry.”

“Ginny? Ginny _Danburry?_ ” Knox asked, head spinning. “You’re seeing a _girl?_ ”

He was met with silence. It sounded like shame; the kind with which he was intimately familiar.

“I had no idea you were like me,” he said, whispering. “I’m…I don’t like you that way, either.”

“Really?” Chris sounded tentatively hopeful.  
  
Knox wanted to scream. He had put himself through all that torment for nothing, and Chris had been doing the same thing the whole time.  
  
“Really,” he confirmed. “Wow, I’m a moron.”

“Knox, it’s okay. I didn’t want anyone to know, at first. But when I’m with Ginny it’s like none of it matters. Like she’s the only other person that exists. I know it was stupid for us to be out in public like that, but it was such a pretty night and I…” Chris sighed. “I think I'm in love with her.”

“Oh. Well...thank you for telling me.”  
Without thinking, Knox added, “It _was_ a beautiful night.”

“What were you and your friends doing out that late in the woods, anyway?”

Knox blushed at the memory of kissing Charlie. Charlie, who he might be able to kiss again now. Holy mother of carpe diems.

“Um.”

“Is that your ‘nervous because you have a crush’ voice, or just your normal nervous voice?” Chris asked.

“I have a normal nervous voice?” Knox asked, frowning.

“So, who is it?” Chris asked, running with the first theory. Knox hesitated, having never really voiced his feelings to anyone other than Charlie.

“You know that guy who burst in on us at the party?”

“Oh, the one who’s weird when he’s drunk?” Chris asked. “Wait. Was that a cover?”

“Maybe,” Knox admitted.

“Well, he’s cute, for a boy,” Chris said. Knox laughed, forgetting to be stressed for a moment.

“Yeah,” he agreed, remembering how good Charlie had looked that night and how horrible it had been to see him upset during their last argument. Shit. “Chris, I messed up. We had a fight. I was such an idiot. I don’t know if he’ll forgive me.”

Chris took a moment to think, while Knox leant his head back against the wall. 

“I know what you mean,” she said, surprising him. “I was awful to Ginny when this all started. I don’t know how, but she has so much patience and waited for me to figure everything out. I feel so lucky. But Knox, you won’t know how he’s feeling unless you try.”

She was right, of course. Neil, Todd, Chris, Keating and Charlie were all right.  
  
Maybe they had figured this whole ‘feelings’ thing out before him, but Knox wasn’t going to let any more time go to waste. 

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna try.”  
  
“Tell me how it goes, okay?”

“I will. Thanks, Chris. Bye,” Knox said, eager to hang up the phone. He didn’t know if Charlie would be in the dorm room after yesterday, but he had to check there first. 

Knox ran to the room, pausing outside.  
This could be momentous. This could be a disaster.  
  
What if Charlie had changed his mind? What if Charlie wasn’t there?  
Knox shook himself out of his panic.  
He had nothing left to do except be honest, and somehow it was the most terrifying part of all.  
  
He pushed the door. It swung open.  
  
After glancing in, Knox checked the door’s position down the hall, thinking for a second that he had the wrong room. But no, this was it.

Knox walked inside, heart dropping with every step.  
There was his bed, his desk, all his possessions scattered across it.  
And there was Charlie’s side of the room, bed stripped, desk cleared. No Charlie. 

It took Knox a minute for his brain to register what it meant.  
  
As soon as it hit him, Knox’s knees gave in.  
He hit the floor, hard. Charlie was gone. He had left.  
  
In the time it had taken Knox to get his heart and mind on the same page, Charlie had been packing.  
  
Knox let his legs fold so he could lean back against his bed frame.  
  
How had he let this happen? If he hadn’t taken his own pain and shoved it onto Charlie, they might still have a chance.  
  
 _Morose._ Knox hadn’t known the meaning of the word until now.

~

Considering Knox had been absent since their argument, Charlie was not expecting him to be in the dorm room when he came back for his final possession.

Yet, there he was. Knox was sprawled on the floor, covering his face with his hands. It sounded like he might be crying, and damn it, Charlie couldn’t just leave him like this. He coughed.

Knox started behind his hands, pulling them away to reveal tear-stained cheeks and red eyes. 

“Charlie!”

Knox was on his feet in an instant.

“I’m just here for…” Charlie lifted a tube of red lipstick from his desk and pocketed it. Knox blinked. “It’s kind of a good luck charm. Or a metaphor. Something like that. I like to carry it with me.”

Knox was staring at him like Charlie was an apparition.  
  
He didn’t know what else to say, so Charlie turned on his heel to leave but Knox grabbed his arm from behind.

“Wait! Wait,” he said. Charlie turned around, finding Knox much closer than he had been. “Don’t go. Please.”

“Knox…” he said, heart breaking all over again. “It eats me up inside to leave.”

“Then stay,” Knox said. 

“I can’t. Seeing you with someone else, pretending it doesn’t kill me every second of the day, I can’t do it.”

“I know,” said Knox. “I know. I’m sorry I hurt you. I won’t let it happen again.” Charlie frowned, confused. Knox continued, “I was such an idiot for not listening to you. It was a defense tactic, and it was unfair. I spoke to Neil and-and to Chris…”

Charlie swallowed, but it didn’t stop anticipation from bubbling in his chest. 

“You were right about everything. You _are_ everything. And I’m done with being some shell of a person who won’t take risks or even _try_ to make things right. Charlie, I’m sorry.”

Knox stepped forward, bringing them within inches of each other. Charlie’s heart beat into his throat.

“What are you doing?” he whispered. Knox leant in, pressing their lips together. It was brief, but it filled Charlie with sunlight.

“I’m asking you to stay,” Knox said, meeting his eyes. “I don’t want to pretend that I’m someone I’m not. And I am the most me when I’m with you. Charlie Nuwanda Dalton, will you have me?”

Charlie stared, afraid to believe that this was real.  
  
Knox looked more sure about this than Charlie had ever seen him.  
  
Heart racing, he grabbed Knox by his jacket, pulling him in for another kiss.

There was no confusion or anxiety behind it this time.  
It was just Charlie and Knox, together as they were meant to be.  
  
He lost himself in touch, taste, passion; stepping as close as he could to Knox, holding him tight.  
  
Knox was warm and real.  
This wasn’t a fantasy, Charlie realised, trying not to grin. He failed, breaking their contact, but Knox was smiling, too.  
  
It was Knox who kept kissing _him_ , kept running hands over his body like he would evaporate if he stopped.

Charlie thought he had understood weeks ago when he yelled it from the top of his lungs in Keating’s class, but now, kissing the boy of his dreams, with a whole life ahead of them, he finally knew what it meant to indeed be a god.


End file.
